So yeah. 10 years. I can't even remember my password anymore. It still stings when Tracy Chapman's "Fast Car" comes on the radio. Ever since Adam died, I've had a weird feeling that somehow it's his message to me. When it happened, I was broken up with my boyfriend, and Adam and I were both in a depressed state of mind. We'd chat on the net while watching the same shows (such as Natural History of the Chicken), meet up after work for a glass of wine, share dinner. We'd dance around the depression. He had told me he would probably kill himself, I told him to not ask me about the self-inflicted burns on my arm. I can't say there were feelings involved -- I think we were both too numb at the time to be anything but clinical friends.
It's weird how life works. As my social circle has grown, it came to include a police officer. I don't remember how it came up in conversation, but it turns out he was one of the officers in front of Adam's house that day. I remember hating those storm trooper dressed fucks because they were standing around, bullshitting about their kids and plans for the day. I don't anymore, he told me his perspective and I told him mine and we both learned something.
10 years on. I'm married (six years now) to the boyfriend I'd left. He was one of the first people I called when it happened. I think it must have been hard for him; he thought Adam and I were dating. But he was so supportive.
I don't think about Adam as much as I used to; mostly when I hear "Fast Car" and around this time of year. I think that's as it should be. There's still enough of a tinge of guilt that hasn't gone away yet. But I try not to dwell on that, try to turn to thoughts of good times. At the moment I find myself thinking about his wife and kids. His brother and father. How they're doing, how they've dealt. I hope that they are healthy and happy.
TL;DR: RIP Hermetic.